The Goshawk

The goshawk canvassed the forest
spreading her news for the day
More trees have fallen
more fruit is stolen
the end is on its way
Perhaps next year
or the one after that
but all the signs were there
If one listened to the gossip of the goshawk
Light of wing on the air

She sowed her seeds of warning
as she flew from tree to tree
Performing her public service
informing how dangerous life can be
Slowly but surely as news did spread
so the creatures began to fear
Do you know?
Have you heard?
What a tragedy!
They say we only have a year

The bustling, hustling forest
once green and budding with life
Became a dank and dreary place to live under the weight of imminent strife
The creatures changed their habits
kept to themselves and lived lives so small
What was the point in living
with the end was so close to all?

Years went by and still the hawk
told her cautionary tales
But the doom she foretold had not come to pass
her stories were getting stale
The creatures called a meeting
all attended to discuss their plight
All except the goshawk
who was busy spreading fear in flight
In the presence of each other
they saw the error of their ways
The only thing they needed to fear
was not living out their days

Buoyed by their connection
determined to embrace their lives a-new
The creatures ignored the goshawk’s gossip
the very next time she flew
Perturbed, the goshawk cried louder
so that her doomsaying might be heard
Shut up! shouted a brave badger
we’ve had enough of your poisonous words

Bristling with indignation
the goshawk moved along
If this forest didn’t want saving
she’d find another to hear her song
At the sight of the goshawk’s retreat
the forest dwellers joined in jubilant shouts
Their home returned to its former glory now that the fearmonger was cast out.

But our tale doesn’t end there
All neat and tied up in a bow
Join me next time for part two of the tale
Where the hawk has the chance to grow

This poem sat unpublished for a while because I thought it was too long, but the other day a goshawk appeared right in front of me attempting to capture some prey, and after I’d finished marvelling I felt it only right to give the goshawk her time on the page.

I hope you enjoyed this week’s Sunday rhyme time, join me again tomorrow to read the rest of the goshawk’s story.

9 thoughts on “The Goshawk

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